


Ambush

by DearHeartx



Series: Fictober 2018 [6]
Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Angst, Dragon Age II - Mark of the Assassin DLC, Jealousy, Kirkwall (Dragon Age), M/M, Post-Break Up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-06
Updated: 2018-10-06
Packaged: 2021-03-18 08:43:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29980302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DearHeartx/pseuds/DearHeartx
Summary: Narrative re-telling of Dragon Age 2: Mark of the Assassin
Relationships: Fenris/Hawke (Dragon Age)
Series: Fictober 2018 [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1802731





	Ambush

**Author's Note:**

> This is only chapter 1 for Fictober 2018, the entire story will be added to a stand-alone work at a later date.

Twilight finds its way to the Hightown market which has closed early due to some holiday celebrating the dead. Everyone else is gathering at the Chantry to celebrate the martyrdom of Andraste or something, I don't know. Aveline told me about it when she asked me to tell Hawke she couldn't make it tonight; the City Guard needed her at the Chantry. I guess Hawke didn't tell her about us. 

I kick my feet impatiently at a small mound of dirt. “This is usually when we're ambushed,” I grouse taking care to not look up. I know that if I look up he will be looking at me with those lapis blue eyes full of hurt, anger…regret. 

“Why? It's not always an ambush?” Varric replies indignantly. “All I know is it had something to do with Hawke and nobles. Edge is usally very reliable.”

Ugh. Edge. Edge is a slimy cretin who hangs around far too often. His information is usually reliable, that’s true; but whenever he comes by to give a job to Hawke he drapes his arms around him in a lecherous hug that is nigh impossible to break. Of course, everyone is like that around Aedan Hawke. The man has an infectious smile and a string of kind words for everyone he meets. Everything comes so easy to Hawke, but I can't just tell hi—

An arrow whizzes by my head, brushing against my hair before it embeds itself in the wall behind me. I pass Varric a withering glare as I yank the greatsword from its sheath on my back.

“Alright, maybe sometimes it’s an ambush,” he calls to me as he bashes an…Antivan Crow?!…that has gotten too close to him in the face.

“Will both of you shut up and help fight?!”

Hawke’s voice makes my guts clench, but it’s hard to tell if it’s anger or anxiety. Either way, I recognize he’s right when a Crow appears as if out of nowhere and tries to slide his dual daggers into my shoulders. I duck out of the way, but not before one of his daggers drag across the top of my arm slicing a long, deep cut. Growling, I heave the greatsword above my head and cleave him in two. I whirl around expecting to see everyone else in the midst of a raging battle, but much to my chagrin we’ve been surrounded. I glare at Varric again. He just shrugs at me.

Two dozen Crows are closing in on us and the one that seems to be their leader is walking toward Hawke. I can’t help but bristle as he approaches, my fingers opening and closing around the hilt of my sword. I take half a step forward, ready to end this no-name, whoever thinks he can threaten my—threaten Hawke. But Hawke holds his hand out in a placating gesture, bidding me to stop. I comply, grumbling all the while.

“And there is the Champion of Kirkwall. You die today.”

That’s it. I don’t care, Hawke can yell at me later. I’m going to charge this wretch and rip out his heart before he can lay a hand on—

A dagger goes spinning by my head and embeds itself in the leader Crow’s chest.

Hawke spins around to see who has disobeyed his order to stand down, to see who has saved him. “Who the blazes is that?” He can’t help but smile when he says it and my breath hitches for just a moment when I see the joy he’d been missing for the last several days. The joy I’d taken from him.

I manage to tear my eyes away from Hawke and follow his line of sight and find a petite elf woman standing on the rooftop above us holding another dagger at the ready. She doesn’t look like any of Hawke or Varric’s associates I’ve come to know. I raise an eyebrow at Varric questioningly.

“I don’t know! Kill people, then ask!” The dwarf grunts as he fumbles to get another bolt in his crossbow.

I run headlong into the band of Crows who seem just as dumbstruck as we are at our new addition to the party. I can feel my arm bleeding, but I try to ignore it as best as I can. Despite our few numbers, the battle is over quickly. It seems to all be because of the new elf; every time I managed to look up, she was killing another Crow. She is fast and efficient, that’s for sure.

We’re all coming back to the center of the square, breathing raggedly after dispatching the last of the assassins. Hawke notices my bloody arm and runs toward me.

“You’re hurt,” his voice is barely audible.

“I’m fine,” I growl and pull my arm away from him gruffly.

His face goes from soft and concerned to hard and annoyed between blinks. Inside I know I’ve fucked up, but I keep my jaw pushed forward stubbornly. I don’t need his pity or anyone to mother over me. 

He turns away from me without another word and I can feel myself doubting what it is I truly need as he walks away.

“Sloppy,” the elf woman remarks, picking through the pockets of the Crow leader. “You think the Crows would be better at this…” She stands and turns her bright green eyes on Hawke with an easy grin, “I’ve been looking for you.”

“Looking for me?” Hawke smiles back at her, that always easy smile. I squirm staring at the two.

“Well, I was looking for the man with an invitation to Chateau Haine,” she clarifies.

Varric slaps his hand against his forehead, “Oh! That’s what Edge was on about. Don’t you remember?”

Everyone is staring at him waiting for him to get to the point.

He sighs and grumbles under his breath, something about Dwarven memory. But he continues none-the-less, “Duke Prosper, the one who was drooling all over you at the Champion of Kirkwall Banquet.”

I fold my arms across my chest and look sullenly at my feet. Who could forget Duke Prosper and the banquet? That man spent all night pawing at Hawke, whispering in Hawke’s ear, at one point he even ran his tongue over the shell of his…I clear my throat and try to stop that line of thought before I trigger my markings. My point is, he spent all night trying to get Hawke to accompany him back to his vacation villa in Kirkwall for the evening; every time Hawke mentioned he was already attached, the Duke would look at me like I was scum. Worse than scum, a servant. It can safely be assumed I am not a fan of this Duke and would prefer to not have anything to do with him. I slowly drift back to what Varric is saying.

“He mentioned a hunt in the countryside.”

“I doubt I’d go such a thing.”

Oh, thank the Maker. I feel like I can breathe for the first time since before the fight started.

“I was hoping you’d reconsider.”

Venhedis. I’m really starting to hate this elf. 

“Let me guess, this isn’t just a social call?” Hawke laughed and stared at the woman elf appraisingly.

“I need to relieve him of something he has no right to possess. And…I can’t do it alone.” The elf has circled Hawke, appraising him right back. But there’s something in her eyes that bothers me. There’s more to her consideration of Hawke than a business venture, an almost predatory gleam in her eyes and mischievous smirk on her lips. I can do nothing, but hope Hawke sees what I see and not agree to help her.

“You want my help to him him?”

Dammit, Hawke.

“Well, stealing from Orlesians is never wrong…or so I’ve been told.” Varric inspects his fingernails as if bored by the conversation, but I know he’s paying just as close attention as I am. He isn’t sure whether to trust this new elf either, but the prospect of a vacation to Orlais and ripping off a noble is too appealing for him to outright refuse.

“This wasn’t how I was planning to ask you this. I was picturing an introduction with less blood.”

I can’t stand this anymore. I try to keep my voice steady, all traces of venom and jealousy out of my words. “Who are you?” I fail.

“My apologies. My name is Tallis.” She inclines her head to me briefly before turning back to Hawke, her eyes twinkling again.

“What makes you think I steal things just because someone asks me to?”

Tallis doesn’t have time to answer, Varric barks a laugh. Hell, even I’m smiling at that. When Varric is finally able to stop laughing he starts ticking off the times Hawke has committed a crime simply because someone asked. He’s reached his fourth finger when Hawke shoots him a look that shuts him up. 

“What? It’s not like I’m exaggerating. Much.” Almost shuts him up. Varric is right though. 

“All I’ve heard is that you get things done. I’m hoping that’s true.” The way she says Hawke gets things done grates on my nerves, her voice thick with suggestion. I fight against the impulse to step closer to him.

Hawke spins his staff idly in his hand and grins at her, that dopey lovable grin that tends to win over everyone he meets. “I imagine if we did this, it would be together?”

My mouth gapes. It feels as if I’ve been punched and all the air has been knocked from my lungs. I don’t know if he’s truly flirting with her because he’s interested or because I shattered his heart eighteen hours ago. Hawke kneeling on his bed, a damp sheet loose across his lap, and a broken look across his face flashes in my mind and I close my eyes fervidly. 

When I open them again, Tallis is standing even closer to Hawke. “That’s the idea. Or did you have something else in mind?”

“What did you have in mind?”

Varric looks at me apologetically and I turn away, bitter bile threatening to rise in my throat.

“So tell me, what exactly is it that you want to steal?”


End file.
